


Wild Chase

by larknnightingale



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Other, References to Illness, The Wayhaven Chronicles, Vampires, Werewolves, bo is a badass, maybe????
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14123859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larknnightingale/pseuds/larknnightingale
Summary: Detective Velo never stays in one place, much to Adam's dismay. With a werewolf on the loose and no sign of her, it only aggravates his migraine.





	Wild Chase

Speckles of water scattered in choppy intervals across the glass. A faint squeak followed as the windshield wipers dragged across the window. Not much else to do on a long road when there are only your own thoughts to keep you company. Turning on the wipers was the only way to keep her at attention.

Bo drummed her fingers on the wheel, eyes ahead to the bright beams that cut through the darkness blanketing the surrounding woods. The beaten road made a great shortcut back into town from the lumber mill. Her eyes darted to the clock in the dash, and back onto the road. If she kept up her pace, she would have enough time to head back to the station before any of them realize she was gone.

Tiny chimes drew her focus from the road and to her phone tucked in her coat. She reached over, took her phone, fixed it to the dashboard as she turned on its speaker.

“Detective Velo, speaking,”

 “How’s the new ride treating you?”

Tina’s chirpy voice filled the white noise of the soft engine and the heater. On the other line, she could hear paper shifting on a desk accompanied by the tiny beeps from Douglas’s phone. Her lips tightened. Of course, he would be on his phone when _she_ wasn’t around.

Bo let out a relaxed sigh. “I now know the luxury of a working heater,”

An unfortunate admittance that made her felt like she betrayed her own car with such an ungrateful statement. The Captain showed her a lick of kindness by allowing her to borrow the only spare car at the station until that awful hacking her engine made was fixed. If not for that, she would have found herself walking everywhere. She told herself she couldn’t get used to this, yet the heater always made an impelling counter argument.

As she took a breath, drafts of smoke wafted into her nose. Smoke still permeated the walls and the seats of the car when Morgan rode with her earlier in the afternoon. Bo crinkled her nose before exhaling, “Ugh, I swear there’s still puffs of smoke in here.”

Tina giggled, “Better than the dingy smell it had before. I think that was the same car Carlo Benitez vomited in a couple of years ago.”

“We never forget our first drunk and disorderly,” she sighed, smiling at the memory of that crazy fourteen-year-old who thought he could do a cartwheel, “Anyways, you called for a reason?”

The air grew tense as Tina took a beat before speaking, “Bobby came in today.”

Bo narrowed her eyes while her grip on the wheel tightened, “Shit,” she groaned, “And?”

“Trina caught him speaking to one of the officers stationed at the crime scene. She kicked him out before he could get more information.”

Bo could already feel the pressure forming in her temples. Bobby just had to be a giant knife in her side—thorns weren’t enough to describe how difficult he’s been since she became a detective. At least she could take solace in the fact that Bobby only knew just as much as the officer did. Those two deaths were just from a wild animal. Better if it stayed that way. But knowing Bobby, he would find a way to dig a hole under the fence like a dog.

Bo leaned back into her seat, arms stretched out to the wheel, “Is this your way of telling me to expect a call from him?”

Just the thought of his voice in her ear made her cringe.

“Best to stay on your toes. He can be quite— _hot_.”

Bo furrowed brows. She blinked rapidly, darting her attention to her phone and back at the road. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the officer’s voice cut her off, “I-I mean, Agent, can I help you?”

Another voice responded to her. It sounded like Tina covered the phone. It made her, and the other’s voice muffled. Although, from the tone, it seemed like a light conversation.

Tina finally came back, “Hold on a sec, I’m transferring the call,”

With a click, the usual station noise cut off into a low hum, “What? Tina, who—”

“Hey, Detective,” a loud voice resonated in the car, “it’s your favorite Agent!”

The familiar voice eased Bo’s nerves but not the tension in her shoulders, “Crap…”

She heard a chair bump into a surface over the line, from her desk no doubt, along with a string of tuts, “You could stand to be more excited,” her voice slowed in a teasing manner “or were you expecting someone else? Someone with long legs and a friendly smile?”

Farah’s voice prickled in her ear, almost like she knew _exactly_ who Bo thought about. Just the image of Nate’s smile made her heart skip a beat. Not to mention the light touches on her arm, fingers intertwined with her own on the hospital bed, or those lips that almost touched hers on numerous occasions.

 _No, Bo. Focus,_ she scolded herself as her grip on the wheel tightened, cheeks burned a flash of pink.

While her mind tried to formulate a witty retort, Farah’s giggles chipped through the silence like an ice pick, “Count yourself lucky you’re talking to me and not the walking statue,” she continued.

Bo straightened her posture as she leaned forward from her seat, loosening her hold with curiosity in her brow, “Adam isn’t there? Where is he?”

“With the rest of the team. Adam and Nate needed Morgan to help root out that werewolf den. So, they sent me back to the station to hold down the fort and watch our lovely detective until they came back. But,” she clicked her tongue, “look who isn’t here.”

Bo could imagine Farah reclining in her chair, propping her legs up on her desk. Seemed like something she would do. The moment a chair squeaked, she rolled her eyes.

“I was at the lumber mill talking with the witness.”

“Just as I thought.” she said a-matter-of-factly over the clicks of a pen, “Find anything interesting?”

Bo didn’t anticipate her to inquire about it. Truthfully, she expected Farah to keep teasing her for not staying in one place. Then again, Bo had been quite vocal about what she wanted to do. Adam was dead wrong if he thought she was going to stay at her desk while they were the ones doing all the leg-work.

She cleared her throat, “In fact I did. Remember the oil found at the second murder site?”

Farah hummed in response before the pen clacked on the floor, followed by muttered profanity away from the phone.

“Well, the witness, Spencer, told me the mill doesn’t use that kind of oil for their machines. It’s only used on cars. It either means our werewolf deals with cars, or they’re driving around Wayhaven for their midnight snack.”

In truth, it wasn’t a lot to go off on. All it did was narrow down that whoever the murderer was, handled cars. Whoever handled cars—either leisurely or professionally—were suspects. She risked getting chewed out by a glowering giant just for that. Probably best to start with the professionals; the mechanics.

Bo waited for Farah’s response. After spending some time to explain, she anticipated some sort of reaction. A sarcastic gasp, or a witty quip. Any would have been fine.

She tapped on her phone screen where her home screen greeted her, “Shit,” she muttered. Must have hit a dead zone. How much did she even get before it got cut out?

As Bo’s eyes returned to the road, her eyes widened at the sight of a moving figure in her field of vision. Her foot slammed on the brakes. The car skidded to a halt as her seat belt held her back from lurching forward. The figure stood a foot away from her car on the center of the road. The headlights reflected light in the tall, hunched figure’s eyes, she recognized the dark ebony hair tied in a high yet loose knot, and the atrocious, dingy green jumpsuit with their name sewn on a patch. Bo saw them yesterday. The memory of speaking with her mechanic fresh in her mind.

“Sandy?”

The mechanic took a step back from the car, her gaze pulling onto Bo’s attention. In the bright lights of her car, Sandy’s entire body quivered like an engine. Her clothes dampened from the sporadic drizzle as well as oil stains. Just as Bo reached for her door, Sandy darted off the road into the mass of trees.

 _Is she…_ she couldn’t finish the thought before she switched her car into reverse, swerving off to the side of the road to park. She shut off her car before grabbing her coat, phone, and flashlight. The chilly air nipped at her skin before she threw on her coat to maintain the remaining heat from the car. She picked up the pace, clicking on her flashlight as she followed the direction Sandy took off.

Trees towered over her tiny figure on the other side of her. She couldn’t tell where each trunk began and ended. All blended in the shroud of darkness where it consumed all time and awareness. Only a cone of faded white light lit her way. She trudged through the damp earth, feeling the crunch of the leaves and pine beneath her feet. Occasionally her light scanned from left to right.

“Sandy!” Bo called out, her voice carrying in the darkness.

No response. No sign of her.

As Bo turned around to the path behind her, darkness pooled over her tracks. If she squinted her eyes, she could make out the opening she entered through at a distance. As long as she stuck to the path, she should be able to get back. She reminded herself to not stray too far. Stick to the path ahead of her.

_Awoooooooooooo_

A guttural howl shook the trees as it sent a tremor through the ground. The woods stirred. She felt it around her. The atmosphere changed somehow. The crisp, chill air suddenly became heavy. Bo tightened her grip on her flashlight, snapping her light to the path stretching further into the woods.

Taking a breath, she pressed on. The strict path gave her time to collect her thoughts on the matter.

It just had to be Sandy. Her profession checked out, she handled car oil almost every day. The woman practically reeked of it. Yet, her small smile and bright eyes didn’t scream killer. Yesterday, she did seem lethargic and more lack-luster than usual. Was Sandy not eating? The old couple only died from mutilation, but the parts were all accounted for. Was it a werewolf’s purpose to consume humans…or to convert them? That didn’t seem right. Bo still had a lot of studying to do on the subject matter.

A heavy drop of water splattered on her cheek, then on the top of her head, then on her shoe. Bo reached out her hand, the cool water dropped onto the skin of her palm, sending a shiver up her arm.

Bo scowled as she retracted her hand back to her side. She could faintly hear Adam’s voice pecking in the back of her head, “Don’t be stupid, Detective. _Blah blah blah_. Head back, get in your car, and learn to stay in one place for a change”.

While she would much rather ignore that voice, she knew it was right.  She walked further than she should have. Not only that, the rain started coming down. Now--in a park ranger’s eyes--she was in the worst circumstance. Cold, dark, alone, and rainy. Not a great situation—a dangerous one.

Her mind weighed out the obvious choice, yet her heart tugged it off balance.

If Sandy was the werewolf, she still couldn’t leave her alone in the woods. Sandy would continue to endanger lives as long as she was loose. She didn’t know a lick of truth about werewolves, but perhaps they could be reasoned with? Especially with Sandy, having known each other for a few years. Perhaps that sliver of humanity dwelling in a beastly body would agree to go with the Agency?

Bo never thought she would have to make this decision.

The detective’s thoughts faded, the hairs on her neck stood as her attention locked onto her environment. Something was watching her.

A predatory gaze washed over her body, forcing her posture to straighten in response along with her senses. As her eyes scanned in the darkness of its field of vision, she paid close attention to the noises around her. Something odd. She clutched her flashlight as the intelligible sounds grew closer. A low, ragged breathing echoing past her ears. It didn’t sound too close.

But it sounded like it came from behind her.

_Don’t move…_

Bo planted her feet into the ground, her grip tightened around her flashlight while her eyes darted around.

_That’s right, not yet…_

Not a moment later, the breathing silenced.

Did it leave? Why would a creature leave its potential prey?

Bo whipped around, her coat billowing behind her as she shined the light in the trees behind her. She scanned them quickly. The light cut through the darkness where it revealed only thick trunks, severed branches, and the occasional specks of rain. She did a onceover, and again for good measure. Still nothing.

_Maybe it was just my imagination…_

That gaze clawed down her back like nails on a chalkboard. She spun around, her light snapping to the massive creature on all fours. Its limp black fur hung over its glowing golden eyes. A scrap of green cloth fell off its shoulder as it lurked forward with methodical steps.

Bo’s feet rooted in the ground. Her entire body froze, but she held its gaze. She had to think of something. Anything. Shoot or run?

With each step, drool spilled from its chops. Eyes locked onto its prey.

Bo broke from the hold in her legs and took a step back. Her heart pounded in her ears. A trembling hand lingered to her holster. Shoot, or run? Her mind split in two. What should she do?

The creature put its weight into his hind legs and pounced.


End file.
